Most She Touched Me By Her Muteness
Emily Dickinson
760 Most she touched me by her muteness— Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity— Were a Crumb my whole possession— Were there famine in the land— Were it my resource from starving— Could I such a plea withstand— Not upon her knee to thank me Sank this Beggar from the Sky— But the Crumb partook—departed— And returned On High— I supposed—when sudden Such a Praise began ’Twas as Space sat singing To herself—and men— ’Twas the Winged Beggar— Afterward I learned To her Benefactor Making Gratitude
Next 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : Much Madness Is Divinest Sense
- Emily Dickinson : Musicians Wrestle Everywhere
- Emily Dickinson : Must Be A Woe
- Emily Dickinson : Mute Thy Coronation
- Emily Dickinson : My Best Acquaintances Are Those
- Emily Dickinson : My Cocoon Tightens-colors Tease-
- Emily Dickinson : My Country Need Not Change Her Gown
- Emily Dickinson : My Eye Is Fuller Than My Vase
- Emily Dickinson : My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills
- Emily Dickinson : My First Well Day-since Many Ill
Previous 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : Morns Like These-we Parted
- Emily Dickinson : Morning-means Milking-to The Farmer
- Emily Dickinson : Morning-is The Place For Dew
- Emily Dickinson : Morning That Comes But Once
- Emily Dickinson : Morning Is Due To All-
- Emily Dickinson : More Than The Grave Is Closed To Me-
- Emily Dickinson : More Life-went Out-when He Went
- Emily Dickinson : Mine-by The Right Of The White Election!
- Emily Dickinson : Mine Enemy Is Growing Old-
- Emily Dickinson : Midsummer, Was It, When They Died
